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Rons Ramblings
Friday, 22 August 2008
An Explanation
Mood:  happy
Topic: uplifting

I must put this in to explain much of what I have written. Whether the writing is good or bad, is irrrelevant. The purpose of many of these most recent posts was cathartic. I needed the emotional release. I am sorry for the negativity, but I had to get it out of my system.

The post below this one is the first of what will only be positive posts from this point forward. Again, accept my apology for the negativity.

 

ron


Posted by theessaywriter at 2:15 PM CDT
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A Writer's view
Mood:  happy
Topic: uplifting

A Writers View

 

My very survival has always depended on the words I use. The sharpest attacks, the most vicious blows could be deflected. I needed no pen for I learned early the art of verbal repartee. Putting the words to a more permanent and visual form, on paper, was never considered. A writer? Me? Not likely.

 

I have read Dickens and Hemmingway. The books of Steinbeck I devoured. I am not in that league. I wrote but one lengthy treatise in college. It fared quite well. I wrote a story and it was enjoyed by one person. A Writer? That takes talent.

 

Talent. How ironic. The words that were my survival and strength are my talent. I put pen to paper less than three years ago. I shared them over the Internet. I learned from the experts, the talented authors that I am indeed a writer. I’ve heard from the best, Joyce Anthony (author of Storm), Marvin Wilson (I romanced the Stone, Owen Fiddler), and so many more that would take a book to list. I learned that not only am I a writer, but a good one at that.

 

I am on the verge of making my name known in the writing world. You see above a pair of excellent writers. Each is different in style. My way is unique to me. I’ve never had the confidence I need. But I also have some great people that have believed in me. I now have the confidence to believe in myself. With that confidence, I move forward. I can do it.


Posted by theessaywriter at 2:14 PM CDT
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Thursday, 21 August 2008
Life in the Dead Zone
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: personal essay

Life in the Dead Zone

 

The maelstrom that is my life has gone from bad to hell on earth. The language used in this treatise is not done for effect but is instead meant in its most literal form. There may be none, we shall see.

 

I thought I had lived a decent life. I did not use drugs, nor believed in violence. What then went wrong? I existed on the surface of the me that covered a dark and foreboding secret. The me I portrayed fed off this secret and drove everyone away.

 

This secret, this basis of the anger upended my emotional state. The me that I want to be is not the me I display. The me that is seen destroys all relationships. My life has been and is, very empty. This emotional firestorm finally flashed over and destroyed the one true relationship. I, at this point, see not a rescue. The fires will abate but it leaves behind a charred and destroyed shell of humanity.


Posted by theessaywriter at 7:41 AM CDT
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Is it Possible
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: personal essay

Is it Possible?

 

Is it really possible to recover some semblance of happiness after a devastating loss? From my point of view, I don’t see it. Then I am supposed to just forget my past? Forget those that meant everything? That kind of family, that kind of love comes along but once a lifetime.

 

Is it possible to forgive an emotionally destroyed old fool? No, I don’t think so. Nothing is salvageable. The emotions are horribly mangled, nothing can repair them. Why can’t they just be shut down? They are only trouble. Why me? Why did this emotional firestorm target me? that cyclonic vortex has sucked me into the bowels of hell. Is it really possible for this black hole of emotional ineptitude to change colors?

 

Posted by theessaywriter at 12:44 AM CDT
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Wednesday, 20 August 2008
Wasted!
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: personal essay

Wasted

 

A lifetime gone. Years of existence spent on self-destruction. No drugs, no alcohol, no violence was needed. God gave me life. I gave it meaninglessness. Failure was not an option. It was and is, a fact. Six decades wasted. No love survived my presence.

 

I destroyed myself. The emotional hell that was and is, me put all around asunder. No job, no relationship, survives my emotional onslaught. All that I could have been, never was. No one, myself included, can be around me and walk away whole. I am fragmented pile of invalid humanity. Six relationships, six failures. A lifetime wasted.

 

This is not a self-destruct prophecy. It may be an escape mechanism. I know not to where since nowhere am I wanted. All that meet me in person shun me. I wear a cloak seeped in disaster. What it covers I know not. Is there a core, a seed worthy of salvation? This begs the question of, is, there any prayer of a future? With the history of emotional degradation, no chance exists for a future relationship. I have wasted, nay, destroyed, shattered, all dreams. I no longer have a chance at love, or a relationship. My declining years shall fade to dark and everyone’s relief.


Posted by theessaywriter at 9:05 AM CDT
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Sunday, 17 August 2008
Self Esteem
Mood:  happy
Topic: uplifting

Self Esteem

 

“I am worthless. I’ve been around a long time and look what I have to show for it, nothing. I’m surprised my mirror hasn’t shattered from my ugliness. I am as dumb as a pile of rocks.”

 

Does this sound familiar? Do you hear yourself saying this? I did. But the bottom line is, you’re wrong. You may be right about being around a long time, but the rest of that statement is total rubbish.

 

If you have children and friends, you have accomplished something. No friends? Would you want to be around someone who is always negative like that? I didn’t think so. Look at what you are good at and put your focus there.

 

You’re ugly? Who says so? You? Don’t listen to the low opinions from others. You are good looking. You may not be model material but good looking nonetheless,

 

How dumb are you? If you can read, you can learn. Read, talk to others, but learn. Do not let your intelligence or lack of it, bring you down.

 

Look at yourself closely. Yes, there are some parts that aren’t the greatest, but forget about them. Put those out of your mind. Only focus on what there is about you that is good. If it’s hard, then just start with the little things and work up. You can do it, and you must!


Posted by theessaywriter at 2:01 PM CDT
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Saturday, 16 August 2008
Let's Talk Abuse
Mood:  happy
Topic: personal essay

Let’s Talk Abuse

 

“Why is Kara so quiet? Last year I could barely shut her up.”

 

This is a situation that occurs all too frequently. It is not always abuse and even when it is, it goes unreported. Children are easily intimidated and most of the time it is a fellow family member as the source. Report the abuse and you’ll lose this happy home, or life. This abuser or set of abusers must be stopped, but how do you convince a child? How many years will this trauma haunt her or him? When it comes to child abuse, gender does not come into play.

 

What can be done? Ask questions, talk to this child, to his/her friends. The signs of abuse are not always visible. Trust what the child says but listen closely. There will be hints of truth, either in the words or tone of voice. Only when abuse is strongly suspected should authorities be contacted. Granted that police, medical personnel, and social services must be involved. But bringing in authority figures and no abuse is detected, this family will be forever marked. This instills a stigma that is hard to escape.

 

Or the obverse is to do nothing. Now the abused child has little chance. The abuse will continue. If he/she lives through this, they will be traumatized, scarred, for life. This also is a future abuser. It happened to them, it must be the way life really is. Only a fraction of these survivors seek help.

 

A few abused do seek help. Listen to their stories. It is from them that we learn the signs. We learn how to tell abuse from normal discipline. It is up to everyone to stamp out this plague called child abuse.

 


Posted by theessaywriter at 1:22 PM CDT
Updated: Saturday, 16 August 2008 1:22 PM CDT
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Thursday, 14 August 2008
How it Starts, How it Ends
Mood:  happy
Topic: personal essay

How it Starts, How it Ends

 


”That cigarette smells sweet.”

 

“Wanna try it?”

 

A simple beginning, one marijuana cigarette in a household where smoking it is a common practice. Get the children started early enough and they soon crave more and stronger. How soon will these children graduate to cocaine or heroin? It won’t be long. They need to pay for these drugs but you don’t see too many teenage CEO’s with a six-figure income. Their options are low pay in a burger joint or prostitution and/or dealing drugs.

 

Do you want your children growing up in that environment? How about your friends and other family members? You have only two choices. You can ignore it and hope it goes away or you can do something. Read about it. Tell others that a change has to be made, get the schools involved. It doesn’t matter what you do, but do something!

 

Neither you nor I alone can change it. But together we can. Have a computer? Use it to post warnings. The kids use it to find recipes for making drugs. Kids develop their own language, their own code. Learn it. Pay attention to what they say and do. A good starting point is Marvin Wilson’s blog: http://inspiritandtruths.blogspot.com/. He tells it like it is. Read his book, “I Romanced the Stone”,http://www.amazon.com/I-Romanced-Stone-Marvin-Wilson/dp/0977968030/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1218151633&sr=8-1

 

 and see how far down one person can go, yet pull out and succeed. But what if you choose to ignore everything? 

You might be lucky. But the odds of escape are slim. The best hope is that the prostitute or drug user/dealer will end up in prison. This is good only because it gives this person a chance to stay alive a bit longer. The other scenario is much darker. The prostitute is a good target for murder or an agonizing death from a sexually transmitted disease or STD. The drug dealer/user will end up on a slab in the morgue. If this person is fortunate it will be murder. This is faster and less painful than the agonizing throes of a drug overdose.

 

It is your choice. Are you going to help? Or do you prefer that we lose our children to Satan? Do you want to save our youth or leave the future of this country to the dregs of society? It’s up to you.


Posted by theessaywriter at 7:42 PM CDT
Updated: Thursday, 14 August 2008 7:51 PM CDT
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Tuesday, 12 August 2008
The Clock is Ticking
Mood:  sad
Topic: personal essay

The Clock is Ticking

 

Time, my enemy, moves forward. It cannot travel in reverse. But oh, how I wish it could. I have made thousands of mistakes but only one I want to change. I cannot. I move forward even though I really don’t want to. I exist in a void. Do I really have a positive future?

 

As I write this, I see nothing in front of me. I have no dreams, no aspirations. I see nothing but despair and depression. I’m alone in a house with other people. I am not good enough. I’m unwanted. I only exist.

 

Time however knows not of my desolation. The numbers on the clock march on. I seek not death, but life. I seek release from this humble existence. I search for happiness yet is that a realistic goal? I set my sights on the best. I aim for the pinnacle, the epitome of quality. It is not a reachable goal, but a goal nonetheless.

 

I will never be good enough. But yet I strive to improve. It will take more than I am. To get from where I am to the next step on my journey requires patience. I have none. It is this alone that makes me question why I exist. I survive, move across the sands of time towards a source of help. Medicine can control the depression. Therapy can help with the mental issues.

 

These issues, depression and mental illness have made my life, such as it was, a living hell. I am mentally ill. Will I ever be good enough? The hours chime, the work continues, I collect the pieces. Can pills, therapy, and my hard work, reassemble the pieces in an acceptable form?


Posted by theessaywriter at 6:39 PM CDT
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Sunday, 10 August 2008
The Paths We Follow
Mood:  happy
Topic: uplifting

The Paths we Follow

 

Our trail through life opens the day we are born. We start in a clearing. The route ahead looks clear. As we age, a few stones trip us yet we endure. We look back at this point with wonder. It is but our youth and missteps are expected. We continue forward.

 

Early adulthood brings us to our first choice of paths. No route is charted. There is no map. We look ahead. Do we select the one that is the brightest? Or does the more foreboding promise more excitement? What guidelines do we use? Are there paths in sight but not accessible?

 

We move forward. We are young. Caution is just a word, not a form to exercise. We make choices. Some are simple while others are life changing. Look, a career path beckons. A fork up ahead, one branch to romance, the other not.

 

We look ahead and take stock of our choices. Brambles crown the path of singleness. The path of romance is lined with roses. Do we opt for the quick and easy? We cannot see beyond the brambles and the curves obscure much of the path of love. Our choice seems obvious but if we’re wrong, there is no going back to take the other path.

 

Roses die, lives change. Time continues in its forward motion. The path turns to gravel. Potholes grow as the route becomes steeper. It is our road alone yet parallels our mate. Will our paths converge or branch beyond reach? The sands in the hourglass continue to fall.

 

The middle years have arrived. Is our career stable? Did the roses bloom again or did they morph into thistles? There is still time to rescue our life. Careers can change. How many forks did we follow? We get lost in the forest of choices. Did we give up and seek the old and familiar? Did we push ahead and cut away the underbrush of doubt? This is not the time of reflection. Now is the time to forge our platform of our declining years. The calendar pages turn.

 

We face the mirror that shows our life. As we turn, the aches of time make their presence known. We have made it to here. Have our loves outweighed our regrets? Look closely at the mirror. It is a map. It is the path we followed.


Posted by theessaywriter at 8:36 PM CDT
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